


Late Night Maintenance

by squire



Series: Late Night [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftercare, Bratty sub Kylo, Crack, Kitchen utensils used for unconventional purposes, Lingerie Kink, M/M, Meet-Ugly, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shitty neighbours to lovers, Spanking, lonely hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21605848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squire/pseuds/squire
Summary: When Hux's fridge decides to leak in the middle of the night, his (hot) awful neighbour Ren is the last person he wants to ask for help... But Ren is a plumber, and one with surprising qualities.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Late Night [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565527
Comments: 27
Kudos: 185





	Late Night Maintenance

**Author's Note:**

> As with all my crack fics, this one was inspired by real life - a story my friend told me about a plumber working in their kitchen, wearing low-riding jeans and a very specific brand of underwear. And although for that poor unsuspecting man it was probably a gag gift bought by his mates, my mind immediately went... what if Kylo?

Hux tipped the tequila bottle over the glass and poured out the correct amount. Took a sip, pursed his lips in consideration, and added the same amount again.  _ Now _ it was good.

With the liberally enhanced cocktail in hand he slowly turned around to face his own reflection in the full-length hallway mirror, dragging his appreciative gaze from the ground up. 

The famous red-soled shoes were the first thing he bought when he landed his current position. Just like every single of his female colleagues did. But for Hux, the six-inch-heeled Louboutins weren’t a thing to be flaunted at work. They were meant to be appreciated exclusively and privately, just like this. 

He licked the grains of salt off his lips, savouring the contrasting favours of the cocktail, and admired the visual contrasts presented to him in the mirror. Slender calves, smooth and caressed by the sheerest silk stockings. Pale thighs, their blush accentuated by the dark lace border held in place by precisely placed garters. The only offence to the perfect symmetry of this image was the outline of his cock. Half-hard and leaning slightly to the right, the head just shy of peeking out from under the lace trim of his underwear, and getting more excited by the second by the combined visual and the sensation of expensive satin rubbing against it at every move. 

Hux toasted himself in the mirror and savoured the taste of the cocktail. Full and zesty, with just a touch of sweetness. Cold with the ice, but with a surprising kick of heat from the alcohol. Just like Hux himself, he liked to think. 

Fine, so he was a little narcissistic. It wasn’t his fault that nobody worth his second look has yet learned to appreciate the finer aspects of his personality. He hadn’t made any friends since he moved to the States and was a busy man anyway, he didn’t have time for the tedium of proper dating. Those few hookups he took his chance on usually got it the wrong way around. They would see the heels, the stockings, the knickers - and they would assume he was eager to prostrate himself and serve. As if he would ever ruin those expensive, beautiful things by wearing holes in them against the carpet! Preposterous idea. 

No, he was better off like this. Alone, wrapped in luxury, and the quicker getting drunk the better. 

Sometimes, he liked to imagine that somebody was here with him. Hux  _ knew _ he was beautiful, but hearing it from someone else… Also, his feet tended to ache after prolonged walking around in heels. It would be nice to have someone over, someone who would lift his aching foot into his lap, reverently remove the shoe and gently massage the sore arch… 

Sometimes, his fantasies slipped and that imaginary someone got a distinct face of his very-much-not-imaginary next door neighbour. Long dark hair, leaving goosebumps on his freshly shaved skin as they fell over the man’s eyes while he was kissing up Hux’s legs… those plush, frankly obscenely perfect lips that would look so good wrapped around Hux’s cock… 

But he was never drunk enough to not remember the man’s awful attitude. The man apparently was a plumber or something, worked odd hours, made terrible noise at even worse hours, and the worst was the rude ignoring of Hux’s entirely justified complaints. Hux’s mouth soured in a sneer. He should be disgusted with himself, fantasizing about such asshole, no matter how enviable his ass looked in those grease stained jeans and that the man, true to the fashion of his trade, probably wore nothing underneath… 

Hux scoffed and went to fix himself another glass. 

Two glasses in, he was finally in a good mood. Nothing helped him unwind after the stress of work and annoyance of evening traffic like this. Delicate piano music flowed gently from the fitted sound system in his living room… 

_ Bang!  _

The shock wave caused by his neighbour carelessly slamming the door shook the walls of the entire flat. The needle on Hux's gramophone wobbled and the music skipped a beat. Hux felt his lower eyelid twitch. 

Any further sounds of that brute going about whatever he usually did after coming home from work was thankfully muffled enough by the walls. Hux would hate if he had to turn up the music. Not because he didn't like Chopin's Nocturnes - far from it - but because he liked to be able to enjoy the clicking of his heels on the hardwood and tiled floor when he went to refill his drink. That sharp, decadent sound alone was able to make him just that little bit harder. 

Hux leaned back into the cool sofa cushions, lazily palming his cock through the fabric of his panties. Apart from that little nuisance of his neighbour, tonight was shaping up very nice. A third glass might have been in order. 

He sauntered into the kitchen, set down the empty glass to join its discarded twin on the counter, turned to the cabinet to grab a new one to give it a fresh salt rim coating… and slipped, almost bringing the entire cabinet of crystalware down on himself. 

The contact of his ass with the unforgiving tiled floor of the kitchen was painful enough, but to add insult to the injury, something cold and clammy was now seeping through the silk of his stockings. Hux gingerly rolled over and stared in dismay at the steadily growing puddle of water spreading from under the fridge.

Shit. Hux bought the so-called American type of fridge specifically for the ice dispenser. The water inlet valve must have been leaking. Either that, or it was the piping in the wall behind it. Shit, shit, shit. The flat directly beneath Hux’s belonged to the owner of the entire apartment complex. If Hux couldn’t keep the water from flooding the downstairs flat, his eviction was a matter of minutes. He couldn’t let that happen. 

Struggling to his feet, he tried to shove the fridge away from the wall. No luck. Even without the disadvantage of heels slipping on wet floor, the fridge was a monster, taller than Hux and heavy as heck. It wouldn’t budge an inch. And even if he managed to move it, he wouldn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like he was a plumber…

Hux almost saw the light bulb materializing above his head, and he almost waved his hand to smack it away. He couldn’t ask for help his hot-as-hell neighbour from hell. He  _ couldn’t _ . 

Mr. Snoke’s rotten face contorted in a vicious smirk appeared before his mind’s eye next and Hux was already on his way out of the flat. At the last moment, he caught the sight of his reflection in the hallway mirror and cursed. 

He  _ definitely _ couldn’t appear at his (tall, huge, muscular, probably straight as a ruler)  neighbour’s door dressed in his self-indulgent lingerie. But there was no time to get changed. He kicked off the heels, quick as a flash he ran to the bathroom, threw on his long fluffy winter bathrobe, slipped into his bedroom slippers, and finally, disheveled and out of breath, he knocked at the door marked with a simple card:  _ No. 29, K. Ren.  _

“What?”

The door opened rather abruptly, Mr. Ren bracing one arm against the doorframe and leaning forward. Asserting his height advantage. Hux forced a smile on his face. 

“Hi, I’m… your neighbour. No. 30.”

“I know. Been called twice to the managers because of your noise complaints just this week. Look, I’m not-”

“This is not about noise,” Hux said quickly. “I need your help.”

Mr. Ren let his arm fall ( _ shame,  _ Hux thought,  _ and also get a grip, you’re not here to enjoy the view _ ) and stuck his hands in his pockets instead. He rocked forwards and back on the balls of his feet.

“Help?”

“There seems to be a water leak in my kitchen.” Hux gestured towards his own door. “It’s urgent.”

Ren, maddeningly, made no move to unstick his hands out of his pockets. “And how is that my problem?”

Oh, but Hux  _ hated  _ him. “There’s water all over my kitchen floor and it’s  _ emergency _ ,” he hissed. “Aren’t you a plumber?”

Ren rolled his eyes. “You should’ve said you wanted to hire me. There’s an appointment booking form on my website-”

Hux wanted to scream. “Please, I’m going to get evicted if the water gets into the downstairs apartment! Are you going to help me or not?”

Ren smirked. The bastard was enjoying this. “That will be 250 bucks flat-rate call out fee, and I charge 150 per hour.”

“What?” Hux could hardly believe his ears. “We’re neighbours!”

“Yeah, and if you don’t pay me, we won’t be for much longer,” Ren said, unfazed. “I do plumbing for a living, not for neighbourly hospitality, you know.”

“But your fees are preposterous,” Hux protested. But it would at least explain, how could a plumber afford the rent in this complex... 

“I’m off-hours,” Ren shrugged and grinned. “There’s also this thing called asshole tax. So, should I get my tool box?”

“Fine,” Hux snapped. “But if there’s a single wet spot on Mr. Snoke’s ceiling, you’re getting nothing.”

Ren just grunted and disappeared back into his flat, presumably to get the tool box. Hux left his flat door open and went back to the kitchen to assess the damage. The puddle seemed to be still growing, at a slow but steady rate. At least it wasn’t getting smaller because that would mean the water had found a way downstairs, Hux tried to console himself. Then it occurred to him that he should probably mop up the slippery floor to make it less dangerous. Ren was entirely capable of charging him for damages and suffering if he got injured here. 

There should be a mop in the storage cupboard, he thought uncertainly. It would make no sense for the cleaners to bring their own, would there? A quick search returned a triumphant result in the shape of a shabby mop and he did his best to clean up in the short while before Ren would show up. 

He finished the job just as he heard Ren at the door, and he quickly walked out to point him to the kitchen. Just in time to catch the man stopping and frowning at the forgotten pair of Louboutin heels lying in the hallway. 

The unmistakable hostility in Ren’s glare directed at the shoes had Hux’s face suffusing with heat.  _ Clothes don’t have gender _ , he wanted to say. What a pity that a man this gorgeous had to be such an opportunistic, narrow-minded, judgemental asshole. 

“This way,” he said instead, in a tone that could give his ice dispenser a run for its money. The quicker getting this over with, the better. 

Ren stopped again in the kitchen doorway, his narrowed gaze instantly zeroing on the two margarita glasses still standing on the counter. 

“I see you’ve got a really nice evening ruined,” he remarked gruffly. His condescending tone wasn’t lost on Hux. Was this man really judging his alcohol consumption now, or mocking him for his habit of having a drink alone? 

“I fail to see how’s that any of your business.”

“Wow, that was so English. Even better in your accent.”

“British,” Hux corrected him, annoyed. Americans could be so ignorant.

“Whatever,” Ren scoffed. “I see my business is right there,” he pointed to the fridge, from underneath which the water puddle was doing its best at reclaiming its former territory. 

"Indeed," Hux groused impatiently. He was the one paying here for a service after all. 

“Fine,” the man put down his toolbox, finally seeming to get to work, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing a set of thickly veined forearms. “Did you turn off the main?”

Hux balked, caught off-guard. “What?” 

“The main water supply. Like, the first thing you should’ve done?”

“I…. don’t know where it is,” Hux admitted. He hated to be called out on a mistake, and Ren’s incredulous stare wasn’t making it any easier. 

“Jeez, how….? Never mind. It figures,” Ren muttered and headed back out, making a sure beeline for the hallway cupboard. Hux almost asked about his apparent clairvoyance before he remembered that his and Ren’s apartments had mirroring layouts. 

“Figures what?” Hux asked testily when Ren came back, carefully sidestepped the puddle and unplugged the fridge. 

“You’re some kind of a CEO, right?” 

Those forearms looked even better with their muscles straining as Ren attempted to shove the fridge away from the wall. 

“Upper management,” Hux corrected him, inexplicably pleased at the overestimation. Sloane was the CEO, but she was talking about retiring next year, so maybe Ren’s guess wasn’t so far off the mark. And perhaps acknowledging Hux’s superiority was this man’s attempt at being a decent person after all...

“Yeah. Those jerks never know where the safety valves are either.”

How could such a lovely specimen of masculinity possess such a vile mouth, Hux would never know. And he didn’t particularly care to find out. 

“I could use a hand here,” Ren huffed when the fridge still refused to budge.

Hux shuddered at the prospect of physical exertion. “I could clear out the fridge, it’d be… easier?” he offered instead, and before he could think it through, he opened the fridge door. 

The thing was, there wasn’t much to be cleared out. His expensive man-sized fridge currently contained just two bottles of chilled tequila and the plastic carrier with leftovers from his yesterday’s order-in. Before he could slam the door back shut, he felt more than heard Ren’s chuckle behind his shoulder. 

“Seriously, do you even live here?”

Hux didn’t dignify that with a reply. Especially because a tiny voice in his head said  _ no, you just store your stuff in here.  _ Of course he lived here… for about two hours each day between coming home from work and passing out in his bed. And most of that time he spent getting drunk enough to ignore the emptiness of his life. Fuck, of his flat. Of course the flat. Or just the fridge. Whatever. 

"Are you this rude to all customers?" 

"Take a guess." Ren let out a muffled grunt as he finally managed to move the fridge far enough to be able to get a look behind it. Hux tried to clamp on the thoughts pointing out to him in what other scenarios Ren could be grunting like that. 

Together, they peered into the cobweb-haunted space. In the absence of the usual low-rumbling sound of the fridge, Hux could hear the tiny  _ tap-tap-tap _ of the residual water dripping out from where the water inlet connected with the faucet in the wall. 

Ren, apparently, heard something else too. 

“What’s that noise?”

HUx lifted his head, confused. There wasn’t any other mechanical sound in the apartment except for…

“You mean the music?” In his earlier panic, he had forgotten all about the gramophone, and now it was playing Hux’s favourite track. 

“Sounds more like random pecking away at the piano,” Ren snorted, got down on his knees and deftly unscrewed the inlet. 

“It’s Chopin’s improvisations,” Hux said a little hollowly, mouth on autopilot. The movement of Ren’s bending over had the effect of his shirt riding a bit higher on the small of his back, and his jeans sliding just that little bit lower. The whole of it started to look a bit too close for comfort like one of his earlier fantasies, and Hux mentally kicked himself. He  _ didn’t  _ want to see that guy’s crack. 

“See that crack?” 

Hux nearly jumped and then he realised Ren had twisted a little to look back at him, showing him something on the palm of his outstretched hand. Hux blinked and refocused. The item looked like a thin flat ring, and there was a distinct crack on one side of its wet surface. 

“Is that the sealing?”

“The gasket, yeah. I’ll put in a new one, that should do the trick.” Ren shuffled back a bit and rummaged for a moment in his toolbox before he crouched back down, a small torch in his mouth and some tools Hux didn’t even know the name of in his hands. 

Hux had barely processed the image of a gorgeous man crawling on his knees across his kitchen floor with his lips wrapped around a long cylindrical object when he was again presented with the sight of Ren’s backside, this time pushed up in a sinful arch of his back as he peered into the pipe, checking for any other damage. And this time, Hux’s little pet theory about plumbers and underwear got an answer, right there under the fluorescent lights in his kitchen. 

Ren did wear underwear. Right above his low-riding jeans Hux could see the peek of a waistband of what appeared to be a snugly fitting pair of boxers in an obnoxious shade of firetruck red. Except… Hux knew that particular brand, stamped proudly with big bold letters all around the elastic waistband. 

He didn’t even know that this brand shipped into the States. But then, they  _ were _ one of the best on the market for male fetish underwear. 

Hux’s frustration was quickly becoming a serious irritation. He already fantasised regularly about that exquisite ass, and that was before he knew that the ass could come wrapped in fetish pants with little Union Jacks all over them. It wasn’t fair. 

Hux studiously looked the other way as Ren got up, wiped his hands on a rag and stepped out of the kitchen to turn the main water supply back on. Then he came back, quickly knelt down - one last peek of that alluring waistband, and Hux was already taking mental farewells with it - checked the faucet, screwed the fridge water inlet back on and gathered his tools. 

“That’s 400 bucks. Will you need an invoice or are we fine with cash?”

“What? You haven’t been here for fifteen minutes. And what about moving that fridge back?”

“I charge a minimum of one hour, and if you want me to move it back, that’s additional fifty for heavy lifting. Your call.”

“This is outrageous,” Hux fumed. “I should fill out a customer complaint for your services. You’ve been nothing but a rude asshole the whole time.”

“Rude, huh? At least I haven’t called in a plumber in the middle of a fuck. Talk about classless.” Ren was scowling now, arms folded across his chest, as if daring Hux to try and physically remove him from his flat.

Hux was momentarily lost for words. In the middle of  _ what _ ? Ren thought…. and then it hit him. 

Those six inch heels in the hallway. The two margarita glasses on the counter. The soft romantic music permeating the flat. 

Ren thought Hux had a… a  _ lady friend _ in his bedroom, waiting for him. 

Somehow, of all the insults he suffered this evening, this one stung the worst. 

“Get out.”

“Not until you pay me.”

“Get. Out.”

Ren laughed. “Come on, I’m not taking orders from guys in fluffy cat slippers.”

Hux blinked, his gaze falling down to his own feet which were indeed encased in his fluffy, cute Persian cat shaped slippers, complete with ears and whiskers. He looked back at Ren, pretty sure the snap of his patience could be heard on the physical level. He was  _ not _ going to get any more shit from a brat wearing a gay fetish underwear, either. 

“Fine. Have it your way,” he said, voice dropping into a register he haven’t had a chance to use in a long while. He couldn’t be sure but something in Ren’s posture wavered at the tone. 

“Stay here,” Hux said and walked out of the kitchen, stepping into the discarded pumps and shedding the bulky bathrobe as soon as he was out of view. 

Ren’s cheeky voice called out from the kitchen: “I’m not going anywhere, not without the...”

His voice trailed off as Hux stepped back into the room, heels delivering a mesmerizing staccato rhythm on the tiles. He didn’t stop until he was face to face with Ren, the heels giving him the height advantage he needed.

Of course Ren stared like a deer caught in the headlights, anyone would. But Hux also saw the instinctual widening of Ren’s pupils, the subtle catch of his breath. Vindictive satisfaction spread through Hux’s core. So he was right. Ren was a mouthy brat desperate to be put in his place and Hux was going to give it to him.

“Sure you’re not going anywhere?” Hux purred.

Ren slowly, dazedly shook his head, eyes glued to where Hux’s hand rested on his hips. His fingers pointed and drew attention towards the expensive lace in the vee of his hip bones, and the outline of what it covered. Hux wasn’t hard, but with the hungry awe in Ren’s eyes, it wouldn’t take long. 

Finally Ren managed to look him back in the eyes. He was flushed from his ears all the way down his throat, lips parted and dry. 

“So there’s no...” he gestured lamely in the vague direction of the rest of the flat. 

Hux’s grin grew sharper. “It’s just you and me. So, will you take orders from me now?”

Ren nodded just as slowly. Contrary to his lazy and obstinate attitude from before, he now appeared to be hyper focused, still and barely breathing. 

"Use your words," Hux demanded. 

"Yes..." Ren managed, voice a little rough and breaking as all the bravado ran out of him. He swallowed the rest but Hux still heard the little hesitating  _ sir  _ tacked to the end of it.

“Hux will do,” he allowed for now. He lifted one hand and slowly caressed the side of Ren’s face with the back of his fingers, brushing across his pulse point as his hand strayed lower and finally carding his fingers through the long hair at the back of Ren’s neck. He scratched gently, watching with interest as the man’s knees nearly wobbled, pleased how quickly he managed to find his weak spot. Bullseye on the first shot. Ren was leaning into the touch with his whole body, hands trembling, unsure, grasping at empty air. And then Hux gathered a handful of that luscious hair and pulled, sharp.

“And what should I call you, brat?”

Ren gasped, eyes falling shut. “Kylo,” he breathed.

“Very well, Kylo.” Hux released the painful grip and bestowed on him one last caress before he removed his hand entirely. Kylo blinked back up at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“You didn’t want to leave without your due payment, is that right?” Hux taunted. “Well then, now you’re going to get what you’ve been asking for the entire time.”

He circled the man, clicking his tongue at the worn jeans with wet patches on the knees and that dirtied shirt, wrinkled and fraying at the collar. He should start with evening the playing field a bit.

“Shirt and trousers off. Keep those naughty pants on for now.” 

Kylo recovered enough cheek to flash him a grin before pulling his shirt over his head. 

“So you noticed them.” 

“As you no doubt intended me to,” Hux said with amusement. He briefly wondered how much of the noise coming out of Ren’s flat was actually his weird way of getting Hux’s attention, and how much sooner they could have come to this if Hux ever confronted him in person instead of sending complaints to the managers. If that was true, Kylo Ren had the flirting skills of a bull in a china shop - but Hux could work with that.

Especially when Ren kicked off his jeans and dropped them unceremoniously onto the same pile as his ratty shirt and balled up socks. Messy and undisciplined, but with a body like that Hux was willing to make allowances. Kylo Ren was all strong lines, broad chest with generous pecs, lightly defined stomach, with thighs almost as thick as Hux’s waist. And the considerable bulge in the front of his brightly coloured boxers with the neatly trimmed happy trail leading to it from Ren’s navel was just the cherry on top of this delicious cake. 

Hux stepped closer again, enjoying being the taller for a change, how much more agreeable Kylo was looking when he had to tilt his head back to meet Hux’s eyes. His hand found those soft locks at Kylo’s nape again and he used the grip to gently but firmly guide Kylo around and down, face to face with the tabletop and ass pushed up in the air. Ren’s hands came up to grip the sturdy edge of the kitchen table and Hux had to admit that those arms looked even better like this, bare and straining with the effort of keeping his upper body above the table surface. 

He fluffed up Ren’s hair with a last indulgent scritch and then let his fingers ghost along the length of his back, admiring the ripple of muscles under his barely there touch, the goosebumps left in its wake. He went slowly, savouring every inch of bare skin, until his appreciative gaze finally landed on what he fantasized about for so long. And what a nice surprise that was.

Those sloppy jeans from before weren’t riding low enough to reveal the best perk of these pants. Plump, pushed up and perfectly round, Kylo Ren’s ass was bare for all of Hux’s kitchen to see, framed by those obnoxiously red backless pants. 

“Naughty,” Hux laughed softly, hooking a fingertip under the elastic edge on one side and letting it snap against the soft curve of Ren’s buttock. “Do you wear these for every job you get?” 

Then something occurred to him and he squeezed one of the plump cheeks, digging his nails in just enough to make Kylo squirm. He leaned over him and whispered in his ear: “Or was this why it took you so long to get your toolbox? Our doors are just a wall apart, and yet I had enough time to mop up the entire mess before you showed up. Did you put these on just for me, hoping you get to show them off?”

Kylo gasped, his hair falling forward. “I… I was hoping… but then I saw the- and I thought-”

“You thought I already had someone over,” Hux hissed, pinching the other cheek and smirking at the way the muscles seized and the soft flesh jumped, Kylo letting out a little yelp. “And you decided to be a complete brat out of spite, didn’t you?”

Kylo’s head hung a little lower, and the back of his ears went a tell-tale red. 

“So, let me summarize your offences,” Hux straightened, keeping one hand on the small of Kylo’s back and reaching with the other to slide open the nearest top shelf in his bottom cabinets. There might have not be much cooking happening in this kitchen but he enjoyed some appetizers to go with his wine every now and then, and he liked to eat them served properly. He found the salami cutting board - a nice, smooth, hefty piece of wood with broad and flat end, the handle fitting into his hand just right. 

“The grossly overpriced job aside, you have insulted my nationality, my line of work, my social life, my taste in music, and my choice of footwear.”

He let the flat surface of the wooden tool slide over the exposed buttocks of Kylo’s ass, pleased with the eager way Kylo arched his back in expectation. 

“I’m sorry?” Kylo didn’t sound sorry at all. Hux couldn’t really blame him - not when this strategy got him exactly what he wanted, and into a position he seemed to enjoy a good deal. 

“You’ll be sorrier when I’m done with you,” he promised darkly. Then he leaned over Kylo’s back once more, lips almost touching the shell of one ear, where he said softly and in his normal voice: “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Kylo nodded in understanding and shuffled his feet wider, wriggling his hips and offering up his ass. 

Hux knew that the anticipation of pain was just as important as the punishment itself, so he waited patiently until Kylo stopped squirming and held still. Those pants really did accentuate his best assets, those pale buttocks just begging to be marked and the heavy shape of his cock, snug inside the elastic pouch and filling out by the second. 

He drew his hand back and let the wide, flat end of the makeshift paddle land across the swell of one buttock. 

The crack of wood on skin was almost obscenely loud in the quiet of the kitchen. The music had stopped a while ago, the fridge was still unplugged and silent - it was just them, the little gasps and tiny involuntary yelps under Kylo’s breath, and the snapping of wood against skin as Hux laid on the next blows, unhurried and precise, slowly turning the centre of Kylo’s butt a shade of red almost as bright as his pants. 

Kylo was a strong man and clearly could take a lot, but Hux didn’t want to overwhelm him on the first time. He made longer pauses between blows, letting the throbbing heat spread and sink in before he lit up the sensation again, waiting for Kylo to get in a proper breath before he smacked it out of him with the next gasp. 

Kylo’s ass started to show a nice, glowing blush and Hux caressed the bare swell of it, feeling the burning heat as Kylo pushed his ass into his palm, chasing the comfort. Hux traced a teasing line across the outline of Kylo’s balls, heavy and tight, trapped in the elastic fabric of the pants, and grinned at the desperate whine that escaped him. 

“Don’t get too loud,” Hux warned him, starting again and concentrating the slaps to the spots lacking the proper colour. “Or I would be forced to stuff your insolent mouth with your own naughty pants.”

The next moan of pain-pleasure was so loud that it couldn’t be anything else than an invitation. Hux shook his head in amusement. Kylo was such a brat, and Hux was clearly playing into every dirty fantasy the man ever had. 

“Have it your way, then,” he said and pulled at the waistband of Kylo’s pants, making sure it didn’t catch or snap against his cock as he pulled them down and let Kylo step out of them. He quickly balled them up and stuffed them into Kylo’s waiting mouth. The expanse of bare backside in front of him now sported a considerably redder area in the middle, surrounded by paler flush where Kylo’s skin was protected by the pants. It looked like an unfinished work, and Hux hated those. 

Kylo might have been a strong man, but Hux’s forte was his patience. He measured the next blows with just enough force to make Kylo grunt against the gag, and soon the man was bucking his hips against the pain as the red blush spread all over his backside and down his thighs. 

Hux paused again and steadied him, thumbs drawing soothing circles on the small of his back and helping him arch his back again. The marked skin of his backside felt so hot to the touch now, Hux’s cock was twitching just at the sensation of it. 

“Now, shhh, settle down,” he soothed him. “You’re so sensitive. Maybe you shouldn’t let your mouth run off when you can’t handle the punishment afterwards, what do you think?”

Kylo squirmed again, mumbling something over the ball of fabric in his mouth. It sounded indignant. 

Smack! “What was that?”

Kylo’s ass jumped at the blow and he let out something that sounded like a garbled curse.

Smack! “You’ve got something to say to that?”

Finally, Kylo gave up and spat out the spit-soaked wad of his pants, gasping and keening at the next blow. 

Smack! “Should I stop?”

“No - oh, fuck - no, please, don’t stop-”

So Hux delivered. It was clear how much Kylo was enjoying his punishment. His cock now bobbed free, fully hard and heavy between his legs, jerking with every slap. The cheeks of his ass clenched with every stroke of the paddle and soon he was whimpering, little cries escaping him at every blow landing at the now tender skin.

Hux paused again when he noticed Kylo’s balls tightening, the pearls of precome glistening at the tip of his cock. 

"Fuck, Hux, please, I want more," Kylo cursed and whined, shuffling his legs wider apart and offering his ass up for more. He looked so pretty like that, well spanked and desperate, that Hux almost relented. But even though he would love to see Kylo come untouched, just from spanking alone, that wasn’t the purpose of the lesson he wanted to teach him tonight.

"It would hardly be a punishment, giving you what you want, hmm?" Hux said, giving up on keeping the fondness out of his voice. Kylo was a terrible brat, but also terribly endearing. 

"Hush," he stilled the squirming man again, waiting for his obedience. "Don't worry, I'm going to give you exactly what you need."

He leaned over him again, caressing the blood-hot, tender buttocks and relishing in the way Kylo's whole body trembled at the gentle touch. 

"I'm going to give you three more, you'll count them out loud for me. And Kylo… don't you dare come."

He heard the curse Kylo mumbled under his breath - and one day, he should really do something about the mouth on this man - but then Kylo's whole posture sagged a little in defeat and he nodded. 

"Very well."

Hux aimed the next slap at the most glowing centre of Kylo's buttocks, putting extra swing into the blow, which cracked loudly at the contact with skin and forced a cry out of Kylo's lips.

"What was that?" 

"One," Kylo managed, scrambling to hold himself up on sweaty palms, sliding on the smooth table surface. 

The paddle struck once more, and this time Kylo's elbows almost buckled, his whole body rocking forward with the force of the blow. 

"T-two," Kylo exhaled, voice trembling.

His cock kept twitching between his legs, curving up with helpless arousal and red with neglect. His buttocks jerked and clenched as he chased the pleasure, bracing himself for the last hit. Hux had to palm himself a few times at the sight, relieving the tightness in his own pants. He waited until he saw those well-punished buttocks relax before he struck them again. 

"Three!" Kylo sobbed, face and chest flopping down on the table as his arms finally gave up under him. His chest was heaving, every breath a little whimper, hair sticking to his sweaty brow and his flushed face glistening with tears. Hux quickly put down the paddle and put both his hands on Kylo, carding soothingly through his hair, massaging along his spine and gently petting his sore bottom. 

"You've taken that so well," he murmured, helping Kylo stand and guiding him into his embrace. The advantage of his heels gave him the extra height so that Kylo's head slotted perfectly into the hollow of Hux's throat, their breaths slowly coming into sync as Hux kept petting him and whispering praise, allowing him to come down from the experience. 

“So, was this was you came here for? Was that all you needed, for someone to put you into your place?” Hux murmured when it seemed that Kylo recovered enough.

The hard cock pressing into his thigh and smearing fluid over the naked skin above the hem of Hux’s stockings was an answer enough. 

“Please, Hux. I want to come,” Kylo begged sweetly.

“And what makes you think this is about what you want?” Hux teased, stepping away, keeping just the grounding hand in his hair and denying him any sort of stimulation to his cock. “You really are something, aren’t you, little brat?”

“Please, Hux. I’ll be good. I’ll never mouth off again.”

“Hmmm.” Hux considered it. He was pretty sure that Kylo was a lost case, an utterly incorrigible brat, but he was never one to back down from a challenge. Plus, the arches of his feet were giving him hell after prolonged standing on heels, and maybe he could finally experience for real one of his favourite fantasies. Kylo’s broad, work-calloused hands definitely looked like they could give a nice foot massage. 

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” he decided, leading the way and chuckling at the eagerness with which Kylo followed. Well, if Kylo proved himself to be good enough with his hands, Hux might consider fucking that red-hot ass before he would let him come. 

Tonight had shaped up to be a winner after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> For people intrigued by this story, here's a couple of interesting links:
> 
> [Kylo's backless pants (except in blue)](https://bum-chums.com/collections/backless-mens-underwear/products/ice-backless-brief)
> 
> [The kitchen utensil with which Hux went to town on Kylo's ass ](http://www.savonawoodworks.com/salami_board_back_op_800x668.jpg)


End file.
